Was it because the full moon was only a few days away? That had to be it. Not all shifters were influenced by the cycles of the moon, but wolves definitely were. Full moons would cause an involuntary shift into our were forms, and it had been noted that moods fluctuated in the days leading up to the transformation.
Some experienced an increase in anger, others in sadness, some in euphoria.
And me? Guess I ended up extra horned up.
Chris must have picked up on Eli’s surprise at seeing me here. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Gabe’s always talked about loving photography. Figured I’d invite him too. That’s alright?”
Eli blinked away the surprise. He went back to looking relaxed as he nodded. I noticed that his neck had flushed slightly pink. “Of course. The more, the merrier. Is this where we sign in?” he asked, pointing at the sheet that had “Check-in for Burlington Photography Meet-up” printed in big, bold letters across the top.
He was flustered. Was it by me?
I nodded, smiling. “It is.”
He followed my eyes and pursed his lips. “Right, duh.”
Eli was cute when he was pushed a little off-balance. Just from observing him through practice, he seemed like the kind of guy who always kept things pretty chill, controlled. He had a tendency to beat himself up over things—that was apparent in how he’d overanalyze his mistakes during our video reviews and would apologize to the team for things that weren’t even his fault—but there was a stronger, more confident core that seemed todrive him.
He fascinated me.
“So you found this meet-up?” I asked Eli as we approached the main group.
“I did.”
“I had no idea you were into this.”
“I’m a man of many secrets.”
Oh, buddy. If only you knew the secrets I held.
Eli chuckled. “Besides, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk, so how would you have known.”
“Let’s fix that,” I said, pausing a couple of steps away from the group. My gaze locked with his. “I want to get to know you.”
It hit me that we were in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. I could hear Dylan introducing himself to the crowd. Could they hear me? I cleared my throat. “As a teammate.”
“Right, yeah,” Eli said. “Totally.”
We awkwardly integrated ourselves with the rest of the people who had come to the meet-up. A guy named Richie Bayne was the organizer and took the lead introducing himself and a few of his friends. He explained that there’d be about thirty minutes here of chatting before they split off and handled different photography projects picked out of a hat. A good number of people had brought their cameras. I had my Canon hanging off my neck. I noticed Eli had a Nikon in his hands.
“How do you like that model?” I asked him once the group started to disperse into smaller clusters. I motioned toward a cozy table painted pink, partially hidden between two of the biggest and most luscious ferns I’d ever seen.
“Oh, I love it. I’m a Nikon guy. My first everrealcamera was a Nikon D7500. I still have it, actually.” He looked down, and for a second, I thought he was checking out my chest. “How do you like that one?”
Oh, right.“I’m actually not sure. I sold my old Mark II, and I kind of regret it. I’m not liking how the photos look.”
“What aren’t you liking?”
“Something about the white balance always feels off to me. And they tried making the interface simpler, but it’s pretty fucked.”
Eli held his hand out. “Mind if I look?”
“Sure,” I said and passed it over as we reached the table. He stood by my side and turned it on. He navigated through the admittedly simple but annoyingly sparse controls. There was a setting buried under ten others. “This here,” he said, lifting the camera up. I leaned in. His strawberry-sweet scent filled me with a need that nearly knocked me to my knees. “That’s the Kelvin temperature, and you can fine-tune it. It’s different than the other white-balance toggle. More specific. And then, of course, you can fix anything else in post, usually.”
I was impressed. He knew his shit. Clearly knew more than me. “Thanks,” I said as he handed my camera back. Our fingertips touched. I sucked in a breath. The sweater I had on kept me warm, but it didn’t account for the intense heat I began to feel.
Fuck. This was the kind of ache I thought I’d somehow managed to avoid for most of my adult life. I never felt this kind of need—this magnetic pull—toward another person before. It was how I’d been able to get on with life on my own. I didn’t feel the need to get to know someone, to figure out ways I could be in their vicinity for as long as possible, soaking in their presence.
That’s how Eli made me feel, and I’d only just met him a few weeks ago.
